Anaphylaxis
by White Weasel
Summary: Apollo hated parties and this one in particular definitely did not change his opinion.


**AN: ...This was supposed to be a Christmas fic, if you can tell from the beginning. Somehow it snowballed into this big mess. Don't even ask. **

Apollo Justice was never one for parties in high school. It made sense then that he still wasn't a big fan of them when he was twenty-one. Even if he was now of the legal drinking age, he didn't like the idea of losing all control of his body over a few simple drinks.

So why was he standing outside the door of the Gavin Law Offices for the Christmas Eve Party?

His co-workers were all inside there undoubtedly having a grand ol' time. Who cared if they were attorneys? They could have a good time too. Apollo did not want to enter and join them though. Why?

They all hated him.

Maybe he shouldn't say _all_; one of them could possibly _not_ dislike him. That was highly unlikely though. Being the prized pupil of Mr. Gavin had its downfalls, the jealousy of other attorneys being one of the most evident.

The young man sighed. He was having second thoughts about coming here, but there was no turning back now. He was exhausted from having ridden his bike all the way to the office, and there was no way he was going to be able to make it back to his apartment without a rest.

Apollo rapt his knuckles against the oak door. Shortly after, the door opened up revealing one Kristoph Gavin.

"Ah, Justice, I wasn't sure if you were coming or not." The elder man smiled softly.

"Neither was I sir."

Kristoph chuckled a bit and stepped out of the doorway to make room for his protégé. "Why don't you come inside?" He accepted the offer.

The office didn't look much different except for the fact that everybody's desks had been moved to make room for the attendees. He recognized a little over three fourths of the people who were chatting pleasantly among themselves. The other quarter, he figured, were the spouses, girlfriends, and boyfriends, of his colleagues.

Some of the people stopped their conversations to see who had entered, but when they realized it was "just Apollo" turned back. Apollo was just about to walk away from Kristoph (wouldn't want to look like some little kid hiding behind their parent) when the man spoke.

"Why don't you go and try some food?" Kristoph tilted his head slightly.

_I was just about to until you spoke up. _"Yes, I think that would be a good idea." He made good on his word and went over to the table where a plethora of food was set up. He grabbed a plate and grabbed anything that looked good. Hey, that bike ride was not easy.

Apollo ended up hanging by the wall the entire party. He believed that the correct term would be that he was a "wallflower." He took a sip of his soda to make it look as if he were occupied with something.

"Hello Justice." A man with glasses approached him. He looked to be around forty and had dark brown hair that wasn't too far off from black. He was wearing his same boring tan suit he always wore.

"What do you want Johnson?" Apollo was looking down at his drink with feigned interest.

"Please Justice; call me by my first name. James will do." The older man adjusted his glasses.

_You first; though I doubt you remember what my name even is. _"Okay _James_ what do you want?"

James looked offended. "Why, can I not have an intriguing conversation with one of my fellow associates?" Apollo glared at him. "I am only joking of course. I need your help in wooing that charming woman over there. You are very young, one might say too young for this profession," He mumbled that phrase but it was audible enough for Apollo to catch the gist of it. "That you should know who to, how should I put this 'Woo, the ladies'?"

Apollo wanted to face palm. The woman in question was not from the office. The only reason she would be here then was because she was with someone. Anyone could deduce that. Besides, Apollo had never been a real 'ladies man.'

"Sorry, I'm afraid I can't help you." He turned his back and picked up a cookie from the table.

"And why would that be?" James was pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just look." The older man turned around and saw the woman dancing with an attorney to a mushy Christmas love song. Apollo proceeded to take a bite of his cookie. He tasted the chocolate, and some sugar, and he had to admit that the peanut butter gave it an added flavor. Wait, peanut butter?

Oh no.

"That foul beast has stolen my maiden!" Apollo really wasn't focusing on what the man was saying. Every second he could feel his heart beat faster. "Hey Justice, are you okay? Your face is becoming redder than your suit." Without saying a word Apollo grabbed his briefcase and made his way through the crowd to get to the restroom.

He searched through the bag for his EpiPen, but it was nowhere to be found. He looked at himself in the mirror present. James wasn't lying when he said his face was red and he was starting to have trouble breathing. He wasn't sure if it was a reaction to the dessert or because he was freaking out so much. It was probably both. He knew he had to do something, and fast. He pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" The cheery lady said on the other end of the line.

"I-I think I'm ha-having an al-aller-allergic reaction." He didn't think, he knew.

"Sir, do you have any epinephrine with you?" Her voice was now laced with concern.

"Wh-What?"

"An EpiPen, do you have an EpiPen?"

"No." He took the chance to move his body to the floor; too much work to stand up.

"Where are you?" Apollo somehow managed to give the address. "Is there anyone with you?"

Many people… who wouldn't be able to tell that something was wrong with him because they didn't even know what he was usually like; he also doubted he would be able to ask any of them for help like this. "Y-yes."

"Have they been contaminated with the allergen?" Apollo thought for a moment, judging from that plate of cookies many people had enjoyed them.

"Pr-prob-probably." It was getting more difficult to breath by the second.

"Sir, help is on their way as we speak, but please stay on the line until they arrive. Can you tell me your name?"

"Apollo," He took in a huge breath, "Justice."

"Hang on Mr. Justice. Do you want to hear something?" Apollo nodded, and then realized that the operator couldn't see him. He needed something to focus on the keep the fog from consuming his brain.

"Y-y-y-yes."

"From the look of things you're at the Gavin Law Offices. Are you a lawyer?" By now the woman had come to the realization that getting the man to talk was not the best idea. She didn't give him time to answer.

"When I was younger I was accused of murder. You want to know who I was defended by? Phoenix Wright." Apollo was interested, but his mind was simply too clouded to stay awake. "My boyfriend was murdered when some member of a con-artist ring pushed him off a railing at a park."

Apollo no longer was listening; his eyes were closed and his head hit the floor.

* * *

The young attorney opened his eyes. All he saw was a white ceiling and heard a constant beeping. Apollo sat up and found that he was lying in a bed. When had he gotten here? A young woman in scrubs looked over at him.

"Mr. Justice, you are awake."

"Where am I?"

"The hospital, you were having an anaphylaxis. You're lucky to be alive." Suddenly everything came rushing back to him. He was such an idiot for not bringing his EpiPen. "You're going to have to stay here for the next 24 hours."

_If I have to stay here for 24 hours that means that… I'm going to be staying here for Christmas. I was looking forward to celebrating with Clay this year._ Apollo sighed. _Yep, I hate parties._

**Yeah, somehow I came up with the idea that Apollo is severely allergic to peanut butter. Anyways, did you catch who the 9-1-1 operator was?**


End file.
